Directed by: by: James Marsh
Rating: PG-13

Philippe Petit tightrope-walks between the towers of the Sydney Harbor Bridge. (Courtesy Photo)

It seems simple enough: wait for the weakest stretches of the Hollywood movie year to release offbeat and independent films. Every early fall and late winter, studios dump junk like Bangkok Dangerous into theaters, yet the art houses have few appealing alternatives. Right now, thankfully, that is most definitely not the case. Man On Wire, a documentary about the man who traversed the World Trade Centers on a tightrope in 1974, is a mesmerizing film. Thanks to astonishing footage, artful recreations and a central character who defies description, Man On Wire is as frothy as it is suspenseful. I’m terrified of tightrope-walking—at least very-high-up tightrope-walking. But I had nothing to fear from the exploits of Philippe Petit and his loyal friends. Petit’s journey to the top of the World Trade Centers plays out like a good heist film, but also gives a unique perspective on the United States. Man On Wire needs a little padding to fill out its 94 minutes, but it is very much worth seeking out.

Filmmaker James Marsh manages to interview every key member of the team that helped Philippe Petit fulfill his unusual dream. We discover Petit to be a completely unself-conscious artist, a perfect cliché of the top-hat-wearing, unicycle-riding artiste of a Warner Brothers cartoon. He’s a force of nature who seems almost literally magnetic, whether it’s the way he draws others to him, or draws himself to his cables. We watch as he first assays the towers of Notre Dame and the Sydney Harbor Bridge. Petit doesn’t just transverse these places, he changes our relationship with them forever. But they’re nothing compared to the buildings he saw in a magazine at age 17. The towers were only a design when Petit first knew he had to climb them. When he finally reaches his destination, we sit back, perhaps with tears in our eyes, and watch a human do yet another thing that humans have no business doing. There are many delightful moments in Man On Wire. My favorite is an interview recorded at the time with one of the police officers who finally pulled Petit off the cable. The way he articulates his amazement at what he’s witnessed is too good to give away. Marsh has a true storyteller’s sense of how to unfold the story, but he is assisted by the footage Petit and his friends took of themselves over the two years leading up to the World Trade Centers. The images are so clean, the moments so key to the story, I had to keep reminding myself these weren’t actors. When actors do step in to reenact moments, Marsh presents them with mischievous theatricality. The first half does tend to go into more detail than is really necessary, and it causes the flow to sag. But once we reach New York, it turns into the Apollo 13 of tightrope stories—we know how it turns out, but we’re glued to our seats regardless.

Still every inch the performer in his interviews with Marsh, Petit recalls the overwhelming need of the U.S. media to learn why he made this crossing. Petit couldn’t understand the need for a reason.

“There is no why,” he explains then and now.

Marsh allows us to be in on it, assuming we don’t need the why either. It’s a very inclusive choice. When Petit’s closest friend and collaborator, Jean Louis, describes the moment he sees Petit first step onto the wire, he breaks down. Watching this man weep over a seemingly inconsequential event he took part in more than 30 years ago, we’re grateful to see that someone else is feeling the same way we are. Just as Philippe Petit offered beauty and magic in a most unexpected place, Man On Wire offers the same at a most unexpected time.

Alex Manugian lives in Sherman Oaks, California. He grew up in Groton and has reviewed movies for Harvard residents for many years.